Umbrella
by Twilight-Imp-626
Summary: She is always there for him, ready to stop the rain...sometimes in several ways. IchiRuki. Oneshot.
1. Chapter 1

_**Umbrella**_

_This was just a stray thought that passed through my mind when I was surfing through an IchiRuki community just a few weeks ago. Luckily, my creative writing teacher doesn't really care what we're writing as long as we're writing, which means I now have an excuse to write my stories during school hours. Anywho, hope you enjoy it!_

**Disclaimer****: **_I don't own Bleach or its characters, don't sue me, etc._

--

The rain fell mercilessly from a dark sky. Angry, black clouds rolled over and around one another, emitting deep growls that shook the Earth to its very core. Every creature for miles around was seeking shelter from the never-ending downpour.

Except for one.

Droplets of water fell on unprotected orange spikes, running rivulets down long-damp cheeks. Dull brown eyes stared straight ahead at the polished headstone, the name 'Misaki Kurosaki' carved into the otherwise smooth facet.

The war against Sousuke Aizen's forces had taken a toll on all inhabitants of the living world _and_ Soul Society. Both sides kept getting stronger at about the same rate, preventing either from gaining the upper hand. Even those without spiritual powers seemed to feel the effects. Keigo's antics were now few and far between. Yuzu's still delicious meals were served with little- if any- enthusiasm. More often than not, comfort was a mere dream. When it could be found, it was in seemingly mundane ways. Orihime and Tatsuki made sure to eat at least one meal a day together, fulling what might have become awkward silences with endless chatter about the jobs they hoped to get, the colleges they prayed they would be accepted into, and the careers they dreamed of pursuing. The Soul Reapers that had been assigned to the living world got together after every large scale battle to drink and reminisce (though it was usually more of the former).

But for Ichigo Kurosaki, there was no comfort. When he looked at his friends and family, he only saw another potential wound to his heart, someone that could be lost if he slipped up, or wasn't strong enough to protect them. That was what drove him to this place at every free moment. The sight of his mother's grave kept the fear of another loss at the forefront fo his mind, preventing him from getting too cocky. He always came alone. It was the one weakness he protected completely, the one he never wanted his comrades to discover.

Soft footsteps and the thrum of something hitting taut canvas joined the gentle pitter-patter of rain. Ichigo didn't bother to look up. In the time since he had become a Soul Reaper, he had gotten much better at reading the spiritual pressure of others, and he was all too familiar with the one that approached now. When the rain seemed to stop falling on him, however, he did glance over. A shorter girl stood beside him, blue-black hair framing her face, which was mostly taken up by her big, bright eyes. One arm was stretched up as far as it could, holding a bright pink Chappy the Rabbit umbrella above both their heads.

"If you keep coming out here on days like this, you're going to get sick," Rukia told him matter-of-factly.

Ichigo turned his gaze back towards the gravestone. A gentle hand was placed on his arm.

"She wouldn't have blamed you, Ichigo," his friend whispered.

He gave her a short, empty laugh. "It doesn't change the fact that it was my fault," he replied. "If I hadn't seen Grand Fisher's lure, if I hadn't chased after it, then she would be-"

Rukia kicked him in the shin as hard as she possibly could. With a strangled cry, he sat down hard on the wet ground, clutching his wounded knee.

"What the hell, Rukia?! Why did you-"

"Shut up! Just _shut up_!"

Ichigo's anger disappeared when he heard the rage and pain in her voice, just barely held in check. When he looked up, he saw that she was trembling, her tiny hands balled into fists. Her head was bowed slightly, dark bangs hiding her eyes. "You keep going on about how it's your fault, and you keep blaming yourself. But you don't stop and think about how the rest of us would have survived if _you _had been the one that died that day! What if you hadn't been there to protect your family all those times they were attacked by Hollows? And what about Tatsuki and Orihime? Both of them would be _dead_ right now if you hadn't come to the rescue! And what about..." Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "What about me, Ichigo? If it hadn't been for you, I would have died that first night in the living world. Even if I had survived, Aizen would have found some way to kill me and get the Hougyoku."

She finally looked at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Stop blaming yourself. You've saved so many others, and that alone should give your mother's sacrifice just cause. She died protecting you, Ichigo, but it wasn't your fault. She was just doing what mother's do." Rukia looked away again. "There was someone who died because of me...a long time ago. I blamed myself for years. But others have already given me their forgiveness, and I'm slowly beginning to forgive myself, letting that guilt go. If I can do it, then so can you. After all, you're alot stronger."

She turned to face him again, offering her free hand. He grasped it and struggled to his feet, brushing himself off as best as he could. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.

"Thank you...for everything."

Rukia grinned, her face lighting up again. "Anytime."

Together, they began the long walk back to Ichigo's family home. This time, Ichigo held the umbrella (as embarassing as it was), so that Rukia didn't have to walk on her tiptoes.

--

On the strange sideways structures, two figures glanced towards the sky as the last few drops of rain fell, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

The shorter of the two let out a ragged sigh as he flopped down on the side of the skyscraper, bleached-white robes covering bleached-white skin. His face, a strange, more sinister version of Ichigo's own features, relaxed for the first time in a while.

"Finally! It's been rainin' in here for fuckin' weeks!"

The other man kept staring at the sky through his glasses, dark brown hair and cloak billowing around him, blown by an nonexistent breeze.

"Again, I give you my thanks, Rukia Kuchiki. It seems that you are one of the few people capable of stopping the rain in Ichigo's heart."

The pae teen beside him snorted. "Yeah, 'cuz our King's a dumbass who can't get his shit together without his little _girlfriend_ to help him out."

He began to shout, voice echoing over the vast expanse of the strange world. "You hear that, King? You're a dumbass!"

The older man shook his head, a small smile playing across his lips.

--

_Tada! Review please!_


	2. Rukia's POV

_**Umbrella**_

_So I wasn't going to have anymore chapters for this, but our creative writing teacher gave us this assignment where we had to take something we'd already written, and rewrite it in a different point of view, so I picked this. Hope you all enjoy it!_

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own Bleach, though having Shuuhei or Renji wouldn't be a bad thing at all drools_

--

**Rukia POV**

There he was, the same spot as always, staring at his mother's grave as if it was the only other thing in the world.

I think I'm the only one who's seen him in such a weakened state (except for when Urahara found him after Byakuya's attack). The emptiness in his eyes reminded me of how I felt after Kaien's death.

Kaien... God, it still hurts to think about him, even though I was able to free his soul after so many years.

But right now wasn't the time to think about that. Ichigo was the one who needed my help. Gathering my courage, I quietly walked the remaining few yards towards him, listening to the rain as it hit the vinyl shield above my head. When I finally reached his side, I found myself wising I wasn't so short- or that he wasn't so tall. I felt awkward standing there, trying to protect him from the falling water as well. His eyes, his sad, lonely eyes, flicked my way.

"If you keep coming out here on days like this, you're going to get sick," I told him.

He looked away again, giving no indication that he'd even heard me. Carefully, hesitantly, I laid a hand on his arm, trying to capture his attention once more.

"She wouldn't have blamed you."

He laughed, though there was no humor behind it. "It doesn't change the fact that it was my fault. If I hadn't seen Grand Fisher's lure, if I hadn't chased after it, she would be-"

For a moment, I saw red. I was so sick of his constant masochism regarding his mother's death. Quick as a flash, my leg flew out, foot connecting solidly with his shin. He fell in an almost comical way, looking completely shocked as he held onto his wounded appendage.

"What the hell, Rukia?! Why did you-"

"Shut up!" I yelled at him. "Just _shut up_!"

Only this man, this single orange-haired man, could throw my emotions into such utter chaos. Half the time, I didn't know if I wanted to kill him, kiss him, or tear out my hair in frustration. He took the weight off the world off of everyone's shoulders and threw it on his own back, piling it on top of his scarring past.

Trying to supress the whirlwind he had started in my heart and soul, I began to speak. "You keep going on about how it's your fault, and you keep blaming yourself. But you don't stop and think about how the rest of us feel! What do you think would have happened to the rest of your family if you hadn't been there to protect them when those Hollows attacked? And what about Tatsuki and Orihime? Both of them would have been killed if you hadn't come to the rescue! And what about..." I felt a lump form in my throat, making it impossible to speak unless I whispered. "What about me, Ichigo? If it hadn't been for you, I would have died that first night in the living world. Even if I had survived, Aizen would have found some way to kill me and get the Hogyoku."

I realized that I had turned away, and was even more surprised to feel tears collecting in my eyes. I forced myself to look up, if only to show him that it was alright for him to express his own pain.

"Stop blaming yourself, because you've saved so many others. Even though your mother died protecting you, it wasn't your fault she was killed. She was only doing what a mother does."

A wise man once said that if you plan on giving advice, you must first follow it yourself. Inhaling shakily, I braced myself, though I just couldn't look at him while I said it.

"There was someone that died because of me... a long time ago."

Unbidden, images of Kaien flashed through my mind. His wide grin as he tousled my hair and welcomed me to the thirteenth division. The anger and searing despair in his eyes when he found out that his wife had been killed. The screams that tore from his throat as the Hollow took over his body, forcing him to attack me. The sickening sound of my blade (which I had raised out of reflex) slicing through his flesh. The feel of his rapidly cooling hands embracing me as he whispered his thanks, happy that he wouldn't hurt any more of his fellow Soul Reapers. The sound of one final breath leaving his body. But it was his sister's voice that rang loudest in my ears, telling me that she already forgiven me for what had transpired that day.

"I blamed myself for years. But I've slowly been letting that guilt go. If I can do it, then so can you."

Pushing back all the hurt that had been reawakened, I met his eyes once more, holding out my hand. His own slipped over it, warm and alive. I helped him to his feet, holding the umbrella high once more.

"Thank you," he said softly.

I smiled warmly, feeling the slight fluttering in my stomach echoing in his spiritual pressure.

"Anytime."

--

_I really liked the way this turned out!_


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